


GONE ASTRAY

by Tanist



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Magic, beasts - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-21 01:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14905604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanist/pseuds/Tanist
Summary: Set in Amalienborg and the surrounding area. Jossed AU, but still worth reading. Adventure, horror, loyalty and friendship themes. One of the works retrieved from the Great Pages Crash.





	1. Chapter 1

A few hours past noon, as the sun begins to decline, Lalli's bursting bladder finally gets the attention of his drifting mind. He crawls from under Tuuri's bunk, staggers upright, pulling himself up by the bedframe, holding on until the world stops spinning. Then, leaning on the walls to keep from falling, he makes his way to the toilet. He manages not to pass out from the effort of pissing, though it's a close-run thing. He leans on the wall for a moment, trying to see through the jagged splinters of pain behind his eyes, slowly realising that the tank is silent. 

That's strange. Normally it's noisy, with his crewmates moving about, banging doors, dropping things, shouting to one another. Five people breathing, talking, arguing, giving orders, working, interacting. Mikkel rumbling a tune to himself as he washes clothes or cooks, Sigrun yelling for Emil, Tuuri and Reynir chattering incomprehensible Icelandic to one another, the kitten demanding its mother, Emil fussing and babbling Swedish nonsense at him...... and where is Emil? Lalli's last clear memory is of Emil's concerned face, leaning over him as he faded into a haze of weakness, pain and exhaustion. He had somehow not expected that his friend would leave him alone.

He can't think. The aching void in his spirit where the lynx should be gets in the way. How long? Still less than a full day, as far as he can tell: no need to panic just yet. But it hurts. 

He realises that part of the discomfort is thirst and hunger. That's odd too. Surely Tuuri or Mikkel would remember that he'd need water after motion sickness and blood loss? He must have slept through the evening meal. And breakfast. He staggers over to Mikkel's food preparation area, finds the crock of filtered water, drinks in slow cautious mouthfuls until his head clears a little. Not too much at once, he doesn't want to start throwing up again. Food. He finds a piece of hardbread and a handful of dried berries, and goes to sit on the driver's seat while he eats. 

The view through the cracked windscreen tells him nothing. He remembers scouting this courtyard, pushing on through his exhaustion to find them a safe camp. The strangely empty buildings. Those weird spirits. Over by the building where he had seen them, he can perceive a change in the feel of the place, but his mind is still too blurry to get a clear reading. He narrows his eyes at the churned-up snow, the spatters of blood nearby, the much more defined blood trail leading up the steps of that  building. Something happened, then. What? Why didn't they try to wake him? And where is everyone?

Fear and worry begin to niggle at the edges of his mind. Even in his current condition, Lalli is sure he would know if Tuuri were dead. In some distant corner of his mind he can still feel the connection to her, the awareness of her breath and spirit that only family share. His fear eases a little as he realises that she feels whole, and ......calm-but-excited? He doesn't understand, but is relieved. Then Tuuri is driven out of his thoughts as he realises that he can feel Emil too, in the same way. That will bear thinking about, once he is able to think clearly again. But Emil is not calm. Wherever he may be, his spirit is agitated, afraid; his breath is erratic. 

Lalli makes up his mind. He has to go. His body is still shaking with weakness, the absence of his luonto aches like an open wound. He wants nothing more than to go back to sleep. But his team, and his family, and his chosen family, need him. He goes back into the bunkroom, picks up his puukko and rifle. Drops a flask of water and another piece of bread into his pocket. Goes out into the slanting afternoon light, closing the tank carefully behind him. 

He follows the blood trail cautiously, finding only a small dead troll, its head smashed, its spirit ....gone? Good. But the previously passive spirits are restless, their attention turning to him in a way he doesn't like. He edges out of the building, turning his back on them only when he is out in the full sunlight. 

Lalli can make little sense of the confused mess of churned snow, half-obliterated tracks of the tank, the troll, and his team. He catches the rank stink of troll blood, mixed with the fading sharp sweet scent that has to be Sigrun's blood; sees where the troll broke away and dragged itself up the steps. Follows yesterday's tracks back toward the tank, noticing the unevenness of Emil's footprints. Sigrun and Emil are both hurt, then. Those tracks are partly blurred by a later light snowfall, but there are two new groups of footprints, not more than four or five hours old, leading away from the tank. Mikkel, Tuuri, Reynir, together: long energetic strides, even Tuuri. Deep even footprints, heading off toward that weird star-shaped structure he had seen on the map. Those three were okay. 

The other group: Sigrun and Emil. Older tracks, maybe by an hour, heading in the opposite direction. Shorter, uneven paces, especially Emil, whose tracks looked as if he were limping badly. Even Sigrun's steps wavered a little. Yes, both injured. So where were they going, and why? And why would Mikkel let them go? Whatever they were doing, it had to be urgent.

Follow Emil and Sigrun, then. They seemed most likely to need his help, such as it was in his present state. Lalli turns his attention inward, to mind and spirit. No, not a flicker of magic, just emptiness, weariness, confusion, pain. Well, he could still pray. And shoot. 

In the fading light he sets out after his captain and his friend.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigrun and Emil meet a horror of the Silent World. Lalli does his best to save them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nyyrikki, son of Tapio and Mielikki, is the patron god of hunters and of their prey. At various times he has been depicted as humanoid with some animal-like and plant-like characteristics, as befits a forest deity, rather like the classical Pan or the Celtic Cernunnos, or as a hunter in the garb of the old nobility. In this little tale I have combined the two images.

GONE ASTRAY: PART 2:

She would never say so to Emil, of course, but Sigrun was beginning to think that insisting on making their little excursion today had been a really bad idea. The structure in which they had taken refuge was safe enough at the moment, but that would change once the sun went down. For the moment their pursuer seemed nervous about crossing the open expanse of sunlit paving around the old clock tower. The huge beast could be seen from a narrow window, lurking in the shadow of a ruined wall, its great shaggy head tilted to observe them, its matted fur stirring with restless rippling motions as tentacles moved and shifted just below the surface. 

The only reason they were still alive was that Emil had caught the rank stench, strong even for a beast, before either of them had noticed that they were being stalked, and Sigrun had begun to watch for a possible redoubt just in case they should need one. They were working on opening the door of the clock tower when the creature had stepped briefly into the light behind them. It had retreated almost at once, shaking its head as if stung and growling in frustration, but they could see it from the window at the top of the stairs, and hear the occasional snarl. Once darkness came that door wouldn't hold it out for more than a few seconds.

She was realistic enough to know that from this height and angle their chance of hitting the skull with a bullet was very small. Hitting the beast anywhere else would only enrage it, and a lot of gunfire could bring worse dangers. Their only hope was to wait until it entered the tower and started up the narrow stair, then try to ambush it before it had room to attack them. Meanwhile the sun inched down the sky and the shadows lengthened.  
******************************************************

The bright westering sun meant less immediate danger from beasts or trolls but harder tracking. Lalli squinted against the glare and tried to focus his aching eyes on the double row of footprints ahead. The prints were clear enough in snow or firm mud, but in low ground the mud and melting snow combined to make a quaggy sludge that swallowed them in seconds. Sigrun and Emil seemed to be heading for a cluster of taller buildings less than half a mile ahead. Not far, Lalli told himself. One foot in front of the other. Aim for that tall tower with the cracked clockface. 

A few hundred yards on, the smell hit him like a blow. Rot and damp fur, animal musk overlaid with that strange reek that always marked beasts from healthy animals, even before you could see the eyes: sour and nauseating, like a patch of poisonous fungus gone suddenly bad in hot weather. Lalli fought down a wave of sick dizziness and slid silently into the shadow of a crumbling doorway. It was big, and close. He had a bad feeling about what it might once have been.

***********************************************  
From his vantage point atop a pile of rubble Lalli stared down wide-eyed at the bear-beast. Its attention was fully on the clocktower, or he thought it might have heard him already. Clumsy. Weak. This wouldn't do at all. His vision was beginning to fade and grey out at the edges, and if he intended to hit anything he had to shoot now. One shot was all he would get before the thing perceived him, and the effort needed to climb the rubble heap had shown him clearly that he had no chance of escape once it knew he was there. An occasional flash of a white uniform inside the tower window told him where the others were. The building was a refuge for them at this moment, but once night fell it would become a trap. So focus. One shot. Now.

With the rifle firmly braced against a stone he peered through the sight. His vision blurred. Normally he would have tried a snap shot, his natural aim was good enough, but now his hands were shaking, a fine tremor he couldn't control. Lalli hissed in frustration, tried to calm and centre himself, but the solid anchor he needed, his own unwavering nature, was gone. He needed help. His first thought was to appeal to Tapio and Mielikki, since the bear was their responsibility, but that somehow didn't feel right. Who, then? An image drifted across his inner sight: a narrow brown face, the expression on the fine features enigmatic, hair like leaves around the buds of horns, the tall erect figure garbed in red and blue, a bow held in one long hand. Yes.

Chanting aloud would draw the beast to him, Lalli knew, but that, too, felt right. He stood unsteadily, his grandmother's rifle in his hands, shaped the runo in his mind, and began to sing:

Brave Nyyrikki, noble hunter  
Help me in my time of weakness.  
Friends, companions, need my aid now.  
Guide my hand and still its trembling.  
Let my shot fly as your arrows  
True and straight and missing never.

Burst the brain and free the spirit.  
Save this soul that struggles sorely.  
Once a bear that roamed the forest,  
Changed into a murderous monster.  
Help him now, that once was Otso!

Let my shot fly as your arrows!  
Slay this beast and free its spirit  
Flying gladly to your father  
To his free herds of the forest.

By the sixth line the massive head had turned toward him. By the eighth the creature was charging.  
**********************************************


	3. Gone Astray Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matters are finally resolved for Lalli and for the unfortunate bear-beast, with a little help!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the last chapter of 'Gone Astray'.

The last bit of 'Gone Astray'.

GONE ASTRAY: PART 3

"Sigrun?"

"Yeah?"

"What are we going to do? I mean, really? You know as well as I do that thing will swat us like flies before we can get enough shots into it to kill it."

"Then those shots will just have to be good ones, kid. Take your time, aim for the head. That's what I'm gonna do. One of us has to get a good hit, you'll see." 

She paused, glanced out at the bear-beast. It was stirring restlessly. She wondered what had disturbed it. 

"Sigrun? How would it be if you hid upstairs and I hit it with a few grenades? Then you could still try shooting it ....if....if it needed doing..." Emil's voice wavered and stopped. 

"No way, hero! Both of us get out, or neither. That's just.... What is that?"

Outside, someone was singing.

As they raced for the window, the last notes of the runo blended with the roar of the beast, the noise of crashing masonry, and a single shot.

Before he reached the window Emil knew it was Lalli. He had no words for the sensation that swept over him, but for an instant he felt the impact as if in his own flesh. Sigrun grabbed him as he staggered and almost fell, then they were both crowding the narrow window, staring out at the bodies tangled atop a pile of rubble in a chaos of broken bricks, rotting dark fur and splintered bone, bloodied white uniform and silver hair.   
                                                
                                               ******************************************************

"Look, Emil, sometimes you've just gotta deal with it. People die. Friends die. And I think Lalli could be dying now."

Outside, the last daylight faded. The wind began to rise, smelling of snow. Sigrun had decided that their chances of surviving the night would be better if they forted up in the top room of the clock tower than if they tried to struggle back to the tank carrying a comatose scout. They had barricaded the door as well as they could, and the coming night promised to be cold enough to offer some protection from beasts and trolls. All they needed to do was survive until morning. Sigrun was carrying some dried meat, she and Emil both had water, and they had found some hardbread and a water flask in the pocket of Lalli's coat. With three bodies huddled together, they wouldn't freeze. But although Lalli's injuries seemed superficial, nothing they tried could wake him. To Emil, his friend seemed to be drawing further away with every moment, his skin pale and waxy, his thin body cold to the touch.

"But what's wrong with him? Nothing's broken; he has a few nasty gashes from that thing's claws, but they've stopped bleeding now, and he's immune so it isn't the Illness! I don't think he's concussed. And he's so cold! Is he bleeding inside, or what?"

"Dunno about bleeding. But I don't think that's it at all. Poor little twig has been really out of it since he came back from that last scouting run. I think he ran into trouble while he was finding us a new route, and overused his magic dealing with it. You saw him when he came back, he was out on his feet."

"I thought he was just really, really tired. And maybe still sick from the driving. His nose wouldn't stop bleeding. And his eyes. But Sigrun - you know perfectly well there's no such thing as magic. That's just silly superstition!" 

Sigrun's expression was exasperated. "Yeah, I know you city boys think that. And Mikkel, maybe. The Danes don't use magic, more fools them. Though I would hope he had been around long enough by now to know better. But when one of our folk turns out to have the talent, we ship 'em off to Iceland to be schooled, and they come back pretty useful. My great-grandpa had magic, back in the old days, and one of my cousins has it now. Not me, but I know about it."

"And I know that every now and then one of our mages does something that's more than his body can stand. Or his mind. Seen it happen, out in the field. There was this one Icelandic mage, held off a giant singlehanded for a whole night, kept it immobilised until the soldiers could surround it, kill it and burn out the nest it was protecting. Then she just went to sleep and never woke up. Didn't think Lalli was that bad, so I figured the best thing to do was to let him rest for a few days. I wonder what made him come after us?"

Emil shivered at the thought of how things might have turned out if Lalli hadn't followed them.  
 "I don't believe in magic. But Tuuri seemed pretty evasive when I asked her if he was ill. Maybe she thought the same as you do? But whatever it is, what can we do to help him now?"

"Not a lot. Try to keep him warm. Give him water if he wakes, a bit of food if he's able to eat. If he lives through the night, as soon as it's light tomorrow I'll go back and bring Mikkel. Even if there's nothing else he can do, he can at least carry the poor kid back to die in a warm bed. And you might try praying. Can't hurt, and might help."

Emil had never prayed in his life. He had no idea how to begin now.   
                                                    
*********************************************  
                                             
Emil could hear Sigrun's voice, but her soft murmur was low enough that he couldn't interpret her words clearly. He supposed she might be praying. She had done all she could to secure the old building for the night, eaten a little, and now lay curled on the dusty floor against Lalli's back, her coat opened and partly draped over the unconscious scout, sharing body heat. Emil lay facing her in a similar posture, with his arm under Lalli's head, the still face turned against his shoulder. He felt ready to weep from rage at his own helplessness. He didn't notice the moment when fear and worry drifted into exhausted sleep.

The scent of green plants and water caught Emil's attention at the same moment he became aware of the slight weight in his arms, and realised that he must be dreaming. Strange, he thought. Wherever this dream was, it smelled like springtime. Late springtime, just beginning to move into summer. He could hear a faint rippling of water, and the distant calls of birds. So peaceful. He was in no hurry to open his eyes. He lay still and revelled in the warmth and quiet, the feeling of safety. 

There was a sound, faint as a bubble bursting, or a strain of music right at the edge of hearing. Emil's eyes flew open. He was lying on a raft of old, weathered boards, floating in a pool of clear water. A tangle of stems topped with a few flowers stood at the pool's edge. Leaves floated on the water close to his face - he supposed they must be waterlilies. Lalli lay in his arms. His body felt insubstantial, hardly there at all, his pale face almost translucent in the soft light. Something - someone - stood at the edge of the pool, gazing down at them. It looked like a man, in the costume of a nobleman from the old fairytales, but strangely, inhumanly beautiful; it held a strung bow. 

Emil couldn't move. He gazed up, and up, at the figure, taking in the vivid colours that still somehow blended into the marshy forest, and the sense that whatever this was, it was real, more real than his own self. So real and immediate that at first he failed to notice the two other shapes, one on either side of it. Once he saw them he would have recoiled in terror, but still he couldn't move or speak. Hunter, lynx and bear gazed down at him, impassive.

This was it, then. He was about to die, torn apart by monsters in a dream of some swampy wilderness. But he was not alone.  Lalli was here too. He had to protect Lalli.......

Emil was still trying to force his dream-body to move when the lynx stepped forward and nuzzled Lalli's limply trailing hand. Then somehow melted into Lalli's body. Emil jolted awake, a barely suppressed scream on his lips.  
                                                  *********************************************

Sigrun started awake at a sound, realised it was Emil having a nightmare, and carefully rose to make sure the door was secure. All safe and quiet, good. Before lying down she checked on Lalli again, and was relieved to feel his pulse stronger, his body warmer. Even sleeping deeply as he was, he felt, somehow, more like himself. Emil stirred sleepily, clasped Lalli closer to him and slept again. Sigrun smiled to herself. They might yet all make it to morning. It was strange, she thought, how the feel of the night had changed. She felt....protected. Watched over. Still smiling, she lay down, threw an arm over the two sleeping boys, and slept again.

**Author's Note:**

> The canon tale did not go this way, because it was set starting from a point in the story where the murderghosts had not yet followed Mikkel back from the Fortress. This is chapter one of three.


End file.
